In the Shadow of the Flames
by Shadowcrest Nightingale
Summary: Writers Anonymous No Dialogue Challenge Entry. Beside a peaceful moonlit pond the night is shattered by a sudden threat. Unable to directly cleanse the haunted fae, Elias Ainsworth the Thorn Mage can only vaguely assist as his apprentice, Chise Hatori, faces the fires of hell.


_**Author's Note:** Entry for the Writer's Anonymous No Dialogue/All Narrative Challenge. I will let it speak for itself ...  
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 _ **In the Shadow of the Flames**_

The forest stirred with his breath. In the distance the shivering blue lantern light of the will-o-the-wisp beckoned him. Black feathers wreathed his skull-like head. The silken cloth he used to spare others his frightful visage fluttered back between the two curled horns that held it captive like a pennant. For efficiency he'd taken on a strange quadrupedal form resembling a dark twisted kirin. He moved in the shadow. He was the shadow.

Elias Ainsworth the thorn mage, a creature neither human nor fae but something in-between. Always in-between. Even now as the scent of her drew him closer, the vast maw inside him yearning to be filled troubled him. In all the eons since he had awoken in the icy tundra without memory of who or what he was, he had never been able to explain this ineffable sense of something missing. Only one thing promised to satiate the hunger.

Her scent; a mixture of flowers blooming in the field, fresh snow melt cascading down the mountains into the ancient springs, the welcome aroma of a crackling fire set deep in the cross cut of an oaken log, the crisp zephyr teasing the spring buds into bloom; she was the essence of magic that drew every fae to her from miles around.

In her wake the forest sprang to life with creatures concealed by the veil. No human could see them. No human but those with the gift of the sight. Rare humans … like her.

Elias stepped carefully, lifting his cloven hoof around the scurry of salamanders. Flames flicked at the base of their tails curling the fiddle frond ferns as they passed. A giant xotyl slid out of the river and stretched out his frills in greeting. His beady eyes roved toward the distant clearing. The light did not draw him. Like the others, it was her presence.

Curiously, Elias in all his power, was no exception to this lure. She captivated him as much as the flock of aerials flitting through the wood on their tiny wings. He listened idly to their plans to spirit her away through their gate. But there remained no chance their plan would succeed.

Inside his chest an intermittent thump persisted. The thump that first began when she ran her hand down his bony muzzle for the first time of her own accord. More then just a steady beat now, when he was in her presence he experienced warmth in place of the bitter cold of his life before. A bond this deep would not be prone to shattering through the meddling air sprites.

Wind-blown red hair flickered in the clearing. The echo of warmth blossomed in him again. He glimpsed the wooden song bird carved into her wand and the flash of the blue gem eyes. She wore the white robe embroidered with blue flowers. She had followed his instructions. She turned and smiled at him, framed in the moon-cast trees.

Chise Hatori. Such a small vessel to channel so much power. So young, so vital, so fragile. On the threshold of this challenge the teenager stood untrembling beside her familiar, the church grim Ruth. The thready tail of the great black dog wrapped around the wand prepared to assist. In truth she had strength enough on her own. If Elias so desired, he could abuse his position as her master and channel her power for his own.

Many masters had done this of their apprentices in the past leaving behind hollowed out husks. Many voices whispered in the dark corners that Elias would. They only questioned when.

He drew up beside Chise, his head level with hers as they stared out over the pond. She rested a hand on his raven feathered shoulder. Not a moment's trepidation on contact. How often he had dreaded to show her the truth of his form, petrified that she would run in terror from his twisted shadow thorns. He'd never imagined she would embrace him as she had. Furthest from his thoughts had been her pulling back the curtain and giving him a glimpse of her pained past. The poor child considered herself as humanity had viewed her, worthless. The creatures of the veil begged to differ. Even now the fae gathered around her in far greater numbers than they ever had around him. The xotyl coiled its bulk around Chise's feet. She blushed and stepped out of his wide tail.

The pond held the moon captive on its surface. From the center the source of malice began to stir.

Elias lay down. Chise climbed on his back and held the wand aloft. Like a breeze, Ruth lept up behind her and placed his paws on her shoulders. Silence stretched between them. As Elias rose up on all fours the night shattered into a thousand pieces. A pitch black horse lunged out of the focal point of the moon. Her mane and tail burst into flames as she filled the air with dreadful screams. The fae creatures scattered into the brush as their world dissolved into a mire of twisted illusions.

Unable to avoid the blast of fire, the xotyl writhed on the bank. His eyelids wrenched shut as the flames vanished into his skin. He thrashed and cried out, prisoner in the nightmare's curse, a terrifying dream.

Chise tightened her grip on her wand, the little wood bird winked in the moonlight ready to take on this nightmare. Her other hand reached deep into Elias's feathers. The sensation of skin against shadow thrummed. Connection made, Elias dug his claws into the bank preparing to move as the nightmare took in her surroundings.

The demon horse's ember eyes gleamed as she spied the figure of nothing but a child holding a twig as a threat. She flared her nostrils and stamped a fiery hoof.

The eternal grin of Elias's skull intensified as he opened his mouth. Through Chise's palm he felt her power pulse, sensed her drawing on his lectures. Throughout the past months together so few words passed between them. It seemed to Elias that only the topic of magic sustained any discussion. Now was certainly not the time for idle chit-chat. His apprentice knew what must be done. And only she wielded the type of magic essential, the power to draw out the beast's memory and extinguish the source of her fire.

The flames of the nightmare billowed into a storm, engulfing them in tongues of fire. Elias twisted in-between them, the light nullified his trick of vanishing in the shadows. Without blinking, Chise and Ruth held fast to his back focusing past the phantom monstrosities leering from the fires of hell. The fleet nightmare remained their target through the spiraling flames. She screamed and charged toward them.

Elias flicked his tail. Countless black vines of thorn sprang from the earth and entangled the nightmare. She snorted and kicked, the shadowy thicket creaked with the strain.

The apprentice met the hostile eyes of the beast. Chise's hard glare softened even as her grip on the wand increased. A tear formed in the corner of her eye. For a moment she faltered. Only Ruth's grip steadied her. The gem eyes of Chise's wand glowed, a vision formed inside. A tiny black colt lying in a field of endless clover, his motionless sides gleamed with afterbirth.

The nightmare writhed in her thorny prison leaving Elias to redouble his efforts to hold her fast. The malevolence in her ember eyes swore eternal torment locked in an undying slumber. The three of them, engaged in a trinity of magic, were all that stood between this enraged beast stampeding the world into endless night terrors.

A shaft of blue light shot out of Chise's wand. Clover petals burst from the earth and swirled. As they settled, a tiny colt raised his head and blinked into the night. He whinnied, the moon's rays shimmered through him. Ghostly wisps flowed off his mane and tail into a vapor trail as he gazed up into the fiery mare's eyes.

The sound carried over the crackling flames of the nightmare. Still held by the vines, she strained to look down at the colt. As he rocked to his unsteady hooves, the flames wreathing her ebbed. Flicker by flicker they withered into streams of thin smoke. Ashen gray hair trailed down her neck as she bowed her head toward the colt. He hobbled up to her and nuzzled her cheek.

Against the vines she relaxed. The moment Elias released them, the mare wrapped herself around the colt breathing in his scent. Musty like the earth in a churchyard. The mare buried her muzzle into his mane drenching it with tears. Instead of nursing, the colt lapped up the salty trail.

Silence descended. The xotyl, released from the spell, uncurled and rubbed his eyes before slipping into the pond.

The colt nudged the mare to her hooves and wandered to the pond's edge. He stepped in and neighed over his shoulder, waiting for her. With her head bowed, the mare followed him into the water letting it wash over them both as they sank in. Tendrils of ghostly black rippled out as they journeyed toward the center. The mare turned one last time to offer a tranquil gaze to Chise. Then, she nuzzled her colt as they both faded away, dust scattered on the breeze.

Once more the moon-bathed pond stilled. Water sprites emerged from their cover in the reeds. Elias glimpsed the winking of light in the little wooden bird's eyes. Chise leaned forward on him, embracing his powerful neck. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but the words never left her. Only an exhale as exhaustion closed her eyes.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Elias's chest. He turned to carry his apprentice home to their cottage. For all her strength, she had not yet learned to ration herself. The cost of over-extension, she would sleep for days now. When she woke, he would be waiting for her by the hearth for a touch of her warmth. The starlight guided him toward his garden in the English countryside. No longer in shadows alone, for through Chise he saw the world anew through the eyes of the sighted.

END


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